


Momentum

by yetaeso



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know, hyunin side couple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yetaeso/pseuds/yetaeso
Summary: Jisung and Minho had a friendship everyone dreamed of. And then everything crumbled. Jisung is gathering the last bits of his courage to finally leave his friend, but Minho has other plans.After all, he can't allow for the hidden secret to be revealed; Jisung can never know why he left him that cold summer night seven years ago.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 15
Kudos: 31





	1. The Beginning Of The End

**Author's Note:**

> The story is probably full of trigger warnings, so please read tags before continuing.
> 
> Hi, this is my first ever fanfic!  
> I would like to remind everyone that I do not, in any way or form, ship these characters as real people. I am not trying to define their sexual preference or sexuality. I adore them as friends and they are nothing else until they say it themselves. This is just a simple fanfic, like any other, but I felt the need to say this regardless. Please, do not leave nasty comments about this hence it will get deleted. Thank you and enjoy your stay.

I’m sitting on his lap.

It’s warm. His body moves every time he tries to yell out something to someone in the crowded room which also makes me move, unwillingly though. I wonder when he’ll push me off, when will I be forced to leave this place and the comfort of his lap.

He is shaking his leg now so I assume it won’t be too long before he removes his arm that’s painfully wrapped around my waist. And as if he heard my thoughts, he finally removes the hand and I feel cold again. It makes me feel alone even though this place is flooded with random people. They are all dancing, drinking, having the time of their lives. I barely know anyone’s name. And in a place like this, it doesn’t pass too long before you forget your own name as well, driven by alcohol, dangerous drugs and cigarettes. It’s not pretty, it’s not enjoyable. And I hate it.

I hate how easily they move their bodies, grinding on each other and how they drink and drink until they pass out.

Our group is usually the worst though. They do all different kinds of drugs with so many unusual names that I can never remember. Most of them sleep around and have sex with each other in dirty places then forget all about it in the morning. They do this every weekend and as much as I was looking forward to college and frat parties, I never imagined this. At least, not to this extent. But I somehow got into this mess regardless.

He bends himself a bit to whisper something in my ear and I know what it is even before he says it. I expected this, I was waiting for it. He wants me to get up. I can’t and I won’t pretend that I didn’t hear him. I could find a thousand excuses to continue to sit here. My excuse could be the loud music or even those girls screaming the song lyrics so loud as if their heart is broken. My excuse can also be alcohol, but he knows I don’t drink. It’s not that I don’t want to. Sometimes it gets so overwhelming that I crave to forget about everything, even for one night, but he never lets me take anything to ease my mind. He always says it’s not easy dealing with the consequences of heavy drugs or the hangover after drinking. But no matter how hard I try to convince him that I really don’t care, he never listens.

I obey to him, quickly getting up and already feeling everyone’s eyes on me. His friends actually love me. They think I’m cool and that I deserve someone who isn’t him, someone better. I don’t remember how many times I got asked why I still stay. But I can never answer that question because I don’t even know it myself. I wish I knew how to leave, but I don’t, so I let myself embrace the pain of both his presence and absence. Both hurt me equally.

I don’t kiss his cheek the way I usually do before leaving. I feel sadder today, so I just gift him a simple smile and say goodbyes to his friends and they all look at me in an apologetic way. They know him, maybe even better than I do, regardless of the fact that I know him longer. There isn’t anything that could change him, not when he doesn’t care or want any sort of change. You can’t change someone who doesn’t see the issue in their actions. Or maybe, he does see. He just doesn’t care.

I exit the house and the cold February air slaps me in the face, freezing the tears in my eyelids, never allowing them to escape. I wonder who is sitting on his lap right now, who has the privilege to enter his room and dive into his whole being on the very own bed I used to sleep in. I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl today since he doesn’t really care about gender, I guess he just uses it as a coping mechanism. He’s consistently running away, I can never catch him.

It’s always like this with Lee Minho.

But still there were times when we were different, when he wasn’t so lost in his own mind and when I used to be his best friend. He used to be my safe space, a person I could say anything to. And I used to be his. I remember we went to amusement parks and museum dates. He helped me with homework and I taught him how to play basketball. We shared everything together, from meals and beds, to random things like music and books. We shared our dreams and hopes; we planned to live together forever. Our whole future was supposed to be different, much different than it is now. We had so many things in common when we were kids. I think back then I would have never dared to sit on his lap the way I do it today, every single week. We were just friends and nothing could change that. But something did change eventually. I don’t know what, but he just came back home one day from school and he was different; the person I knew didn’t exist anymore. It was him, looking at me, but I didn’t recognize him anymore. He would speak to me, but I would hear someone else. He stopped laughing, planning and enjoying my presence. He avoided me as much as he could. It was pretty hard, hard to the point I was left alone with the plans we made together. It all crumbled. It was hard to throw years and years of happy childhood for this forever changed relationship between us. I never liked him in that way before and I know for a fact he didn’t like me romantically either. He doesn’t even like me now, not even after exploring every corner of my mouth. He kissed me for the first time when I was eighteen and hasn’t stopped ever since. We never have sex, though, or anything else. He just kisses me when he wants to, cuddles when he feels like it and comes to lie in my arms for comfort when someone pisses him off. But he feels nothing for me other than something he used to feel as a kid. He just protects me and cherishes me in some ways because I was his childhood best friend after all. I even thought we could be something more after he helped me find out I’m not as straight as I thought I was. But my hopes faded away slowly each time he brought another person home letting me hear their moans as if it weren’t destroying me.

Maybe it’s me. Maybe I really should have given up on him way back then. But I thought maybe I could help him, pull him out, God knows what he went through that day. He never spoke about it, but I tried my best to help. And so the years went by and he just became worse with no sign of change. It’s stupid, really, the amount of time we give to people that don’t deserve us.

But I can’t help myself. I can’t leave because I’m too deep into this. Because no matter what he felt or didn’t feel towards me, he needs me and I realized that a long time ago. It gets tiring to be his scapegoat every single time, but I can’t change it. I learned to live with it and to pick up those small crumbs he leaves for me from time to time. Because every time I get to touch him, to feel him next to me, I tell myself it’s worth it, it’s worth the suffering. Without knowing it, I came to love him. I spent too much time adjusting to it, but I still don’t like the part of me which is in love with Minho. I suppose I never will.

But regardless, I have always wondered why he never touches me, why doesn’t he do the things he does to everyone else? Why am I not the body he uses every night? I used to think I was not enough and in those small, but important moments I was way too jealous of everyone who got to know every inch of his body the way I never will. I know it’s wrong; our relationship is already fucked up. But I just thought maybe I wasn’t enough, maybe I lacked in so many things that he felt I’m not even worthy of having sex with. It’s a constant worry. What will he do next and whether am I going to be ready for it or not. However, I don’t wonder if I’m going to like whatever comes my way because I usually don’t.

Sometimes I lie on the floor and let myself embrace him. It breaks me, but I can’t avoid it, I can’t escape him.

Today seems like it’s one of those days. I feel sadder than I usually am and my body hurts more when he touches me than when he doesn’t. So after I call the cab to take me home, to take me to the only place I can be completely and utterly free from him, I feel kind of better. It still feels horrible, but at least I do not smell those awful mixed drinks and smells of erected bodies from the party and at least I’m not sharing the dorm with Minho anymore. I swear it used to be hell living with him. Now I am alone and it’s peaceful and he can’t get in with a new person every night and I don’t get to hear the moans from the bed next to mine. Wow, the bar is really that low, huh?

But as much as it pains me, I know it’s not his fault. I can’t make him love me and still, I can’t leave him, happily gathering all the crumps he leaves me. It’s a bit pathetic, really.

As a kid, I never really thought I’d be put into these kinds of situations. Because Minho was indeed my best friend and the fact that a person can change so drastically scares me. I wish I had learned how to walk away, but the years of knowing each other are wrapped around our lives like Minho’s heavy hand on my waist. It’s unbearable; it pains more than it gives us pleasure. Maybe that’s the reason why I stay. Because I’m convinced it’s my fault, that I did or said something that made us different, that changed our relationship. But both of us know that’s not the truth. Both his and mine friends know it, too. That’s why I get sympathetic looks every time Minho covers his hand with mine or when I get up to leave yet another party that he invited me to, knowing damn well what he’s going to do the second I walk out of the door.

_It doesn’t matter,_ I tell myself as I’m searching for the keys in my backpack. I finally find them hidden deep in the pocket and when I take them out, the cat figure attached to the keys dingles on my hand. It’s a gift from him; he bought it the last time we ever went to the amusement park together, almost seven years ago. Time truly does fly and that seems almost horrifying. Will I spend my entire life living like a shell for Minho’s use? But as I think about it, my heart starts to ache.

The sound of my phone sends the thought on a faraway place. I come into the house and leave the keys on the corner before I see the message from Jeongin.

**_Innie_**

_Are you home yet?_

**_Jisung_**

_Yes_ _. Wanna meet?_

**_Innie_**

_That’s what I’ve been meaning to ask. At Seungmin’s and Felix’s dorm in 15?_ _~~~_

**_Jisung_**

_Okie_

I smile to myself. Jeongin is one of my closest friends, alongside Seungmin and Felix. Seungmin, Felix and I are in the same year in college. Jeongin is just a year younger, but he acts the most mature. I think all of us can count on him no matter what and he’s such a good friend that I knew for the longest. Apart from Minho.

I think I met him back in high school, he was a freshman and a very decent student, he knew how to help me with my studies. I never really cared about studying, and since Minho changed our future, I didn’t even care much what happens with me anymore. But Jeongin had other plans. He pushed me to get good grades and eventually made me go to college. I’m thankful for him, for all my friends actually. When I thought I was going to be alone most of the time, they showed up and made me realize there is a life out there for me, not everything has to revolve around Minho and his selfishness.

Seungmin and Felix are our new friends. Jeongin and I met them freshman year of college, just last year since we are sophomores now. They are pretty much okay and I got used to them being around. Felix is the type of a person who likes hugs and skin ship in general, while Seungmin is not a big fan of it but if I need a hug, he obeys to it.

In general, we fit well and we hang out very often. It’s nice knowing I actually have someone to rely on, someone real.

As I think about my friends, a ball of fur wraps around my leg, making me flinch in surprise.

“Dori?! You scared me,” I sigh out, looking at the young cat that’s loudly purring between the leg and the chair. “How have you been today?” I ask, but the cat doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he meows.

“Where are Soonie and Doongie?” and just as I wonder, the two other cats start strolling through the room, alarmed that someone’s finally home. They act like I don’t leave them a lot of food before I leave for a day.

Soonie, Doongie and Dori are three adopted cats. Something I got from Minho as well. Even though Minho doesn’t live in the same dorm as me for almost a year now, there are still reminders that he used to occupy my entire world and space. Starting from the cats. Even though he lost his entire personality and changed his life, he still has a very sweet and weak spot for animals, especially cats. He got them through the freshman year here and he made me take care of them when he moved into another dorm. I’m not that good in taking care of anything since I can’t even take care of myself, but I don’t have a choice. The cats don’t even like me as much as they used to like Minho. He was the one they always cuddled with, but they won’t even glance at my direction if I’m not carrying food or toys. Dori is indeed a bit different. He will cuddle when he wants to and he likes to greet me every day by wrapping his tail and body around my leg, but he doesn’t let me touch him. It makes me sad sometimes, but I’m used to being used when they want me and then thrown away when they get bored of me. Their owner taught them well and I laugh.

“Are you hungry already? I’m pretty sure I left a lot of food today. It’s not healthy if you get fat, Doongie,” I curse in a sweet way to the other cat meowing noisily. But I still smile and pour the fresh water and more food into their bowls. I leave the cats eating happily and decide to take a shower.

The hot shower eases my mind. I forget all the bad things, all the emotional feelings and bad thoughts left inside. The warm water falls so easily onto my naked body and I almost feel like I was born only to feel the hotness wrapped around me from the outside. It feels alluring, comforting even. If I could spend the rest of my life – no, the rest of eternity here, I definitely would.

But life is often disappointing, I realize as the coldness of my soul cannot be warmed up with hot showers. I turn the volume of the heat up and as the numbers keep rising, my skin burns and my body begins to tremble as a warning that it is too much, too consuming, I should stop and turn the volume down because it hurts, I will get burned and the redness on my skin keeps rising, avoiding no spots. But I don’t care. I let the feverish water run down me, to eat me alive, in hope that it will warm up my insides. But it doesn’t. My mind and heart and all those organs travelling inside are still so cold and I feel the shivers devouring me. But nothing helps. Not even the moment I spend the entire hot water in the boiler.

I am cold, cold and nothing else.

As I wrap my body with a long towel, I notice just how red my skin actually is. And it is in this exact moment that I feel hot and the heat is crawling on my body so I try to scrap it off with a towel. Dori sensed that I’m not okay so he comes to snuggle on my feet, purring as loud as he can. It eases me almost immediately and most of the rash suddenly fleets away and the normal color rushes all over me once again.

I put on some clothes and dry my hair very quickly. I grab the keys of the counter, blow a kiss to the cat that comforted me just a minute ago and leave the apartment.

It doesn’t take me long before I arrive at my friend’s dorm. The air is colder now that it’s night and it almost makes me want to come back home. But as I walk into the dorm and see those three boys, my heart calms down once again.

“Hannie…” Jeongin whines out, hugging me tightly, despite the fact that he rarely hugs anyone. “Ahh, you smell nice. Did you take a shower?”

I try to hide my still red wrists from the shower and he notices my sudden change of mood, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pats my still wet hair and blows an air kiss towards it.

“Han!” It’s Felix this time who yells out and he’s followed by Seungmin who gives me a high five, compared to Felix who hugs me like his life depends on it.

I like hugs. I wouldn’t say I like them to the extent Felix likes, but I like them in general.

“How have you been?” Jeongin asks.

“Good, good. I think today is a bit heavy, don’t you think? I mean, I hate Fridays. Maybe it’s just me.”

But he just sighs, giving me a comforting look. “I hate weekends just because of this. I’m always restless when you’re out,” I glance at the boys and they seem to know what the talk is about.

I never hid the Minho situation from them, not even when I wanted to. I felt like they deserved to know, especially since they shared some heavy secrets with me as well. And besides, I desired to release the stress and the burden from my back by sharing it with someone. And what’s better than sharing your misfortunes with your friends?

“He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve _you_ ,” he purrs in my ear as he pulls me in another hug. “Ah, Jisung hyung. Will you ever leave him? Will you ever set yourself free?”

And I don’t know. Will leaving be freedom? Will I miss him? And if I do, will I regret?

I will miss him, knowing myself. But you can miss some people and still cross the street to avoid them, right?

“I’m sorry guys. It’s like two am in the morning and I’m taking from your sleeping time,” I start the moment Jeongin backs away from my embrace.

Felix just rolls his eyes as if what I just said is complete nonsense. “Han, let’s be real, knowing that you aren’t okay, we wouldn’t be sleeping anyways,” he giggles but still full of worry, ”Besides, I learned a new dance today. Want to see?”

“Let the man rest, Lix. It’s like two am in the morning; I bet he wants to talk about something else right now.” The three of us laugh at Seungmin’s remark. But the boy just rests his head on my shoulder and he starts drifting off. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep peacefully.

We quiet down, but none of us get up to leave or to take Seungmin into his bed.

We talk a lot, about nothing and everything. It’s visible that they are just trying to ease my mind and make me forget about Minho and the fact that tomorrow night I still have to experience the same thing again. We don’t meet up like this very often, I don’t want to intrude and make them feel uncomfortable. I know they want to help and that Seungmin likes my presence even though he whines out and that they all worry about me. And even though talking to them feels like a therapy session, I just can’t bring myself to always change their life flow. There are just some things I have to do alone. I can’t keep depending on my friends anymore. There were times where I did this alone and I should have done it even after I met my friends, I should have never brought them into my life mess.

***

Everyone fell asleep. Even Jeongin. So I tried my best to sneak out and leave them to rest. I knew they stayed up for me only and the least I could do was leave early.

It is currently almost five in the morning and my eyes are hurting even though I barely take any sleep. I don’t know why, but I stopped sleeping regularly ever since I was a kid. I used to have a normal sleeping schedule, but now I can’t close my eyes for the hell of it. That’s why I like to make myself tired by working out and studying, but it doesn’t help like it should. I can only fall asleep extremely late at night, after five or six in the morning, and then I can sleep for a few hours until my morning classes start. It’s been like this for a very long time that I almost forgot what it’s like to lie in bed and fall asleep the moment you close your eyes.

I open the heavy metal doors and enter my room and right in the next corner, the cats are peacefully sleeping. I know they waited for me to come home, but got tired eventually. They only sleep in their own beds when I’m not home. But when I am, they will jump on my bed because it’s very big and cats usually like to sit or lie on the things that humans do as well. They see me so they start meowing but it doesn’t take long before all of them jump on my bed and fall asleep again.

I don’t take a shower this time, too tired from the wreckage in my head. Instead, I just take off my clothes and dress myself up in a nice fresh set of pajamas. I feel cozy and sleepy so I pull myself to bed.

But the moment I want to turn off the light, I hear a long and loud bell ring.

I wonder who can be this late. Did they wake up and see that I’m gone? But that can’t be. I left a message just in case they think I ran away or something.

Horribly annoyed, but with a tiny smile, I open the door.

“Hyung?”


	2. Please Don't Shut The Door

I don’t know who I expected to see, or if I was hoping for it to be someone else. But instead of those illusions or expectations in my head, this person is standing in front of me and he’s real. I’m not dreaming. I know by the way I can still count all ten fingers on my hands.

“Jisung, hi. I’m so sorry for waking you up, I know it’s pretty early,” Chan, one of Minho’s close friends greets me and I shake my head, both in confusion and fear.

Chan barely comes here. And when he does, he surely doesn’t do it at night, which makes me wonder what misfortune Minho got himself into again.

“No, it’s okay. I was awake anyways,” I brush my sleepy eyes. “Did something happen? Is Minho hyung okay?”

Chan just shakes his head. The look of utter worry flashes on his face, but he also looks disappointed. He’s always disappointed when it comes to his friend. Not because Minho is a bad person, but he just does some really bad things. None of us want him to be this way, but we can do nothing except hope that tomorrow won’t be that bad. But it always is.

“He got really drunk. You know how he gets and the way he acts towards the person who is near him when he’s drunk, he...” Chan stops. It’s not like it can hurt me worse, I already experienced this before.

“It’s okay. You can continue. I know what he does; I was there to witness it many times, hyung. We both know that.”

Chan is visibly uncomfortable and it pains me and makes me feel embarrassed how easy it is to hurt me with words. Because those words just need to consist of Minho’s name and I will crumble right away.

“He keeps calling out to you,” isn’t that awesome, I ask myself. “He doesn’t want to see or get help from anyone. He doesn’t even want to go home and I had no other options but to-“

“But to get me?” I cut him off, all the buildup anger consuming my senses. But I quickly pull myself together. Chan doesn’t deserve my bullshit. “Yeah, it’s Minho. What Minho wants, Minho gets, right? I can never get rid of that guy,” I whisper as I leave the door open and storm inside to get dressed.

If he heard me, Chan doesn’t show it.

***

It doesn’t take long to arrive at the frat house. Chan is a very good driver and given the thought that it’s very late at night, there isn’t much cars driving right now anyway.

The house seems to look the same as when I left several hours ago. This time however, I notice there’s no music playing at all. It’s almost silent. But as I look at the watch on my wrist and see that it’s almost seven in the morning, it becomes understandable.

Chan pushes me a bit and we get inside.

All those people are completely gone and they left havoc behind them. I only see a few boys and girls I’m not familiar with. They don’t seem like Minho’s friends. Perhaps they are Chan’s.

The clean freak inside of me almost starts cleaning up. But this is not my mess and I can’t always be responsible for someone else’s shit, so I pull back my hand even though it’s itching me to at least gather all the plastic cups.

The silence gets interrupted immediately as I walk into the main room. It’s like someone flipped a switch and all I can hear is loud screaming and yelling. Minho is really drunk this time.

“I said, bring Jisung to me! Right now!!” he keeps yelling at Hyunjin, also one of his best friends.

Minho also had three best friends, just like me. There is Chan, Hyunjin and Changbin. All of them are sweet and all of them take care of Minho even though he barely deserves it.

Changbin tries to lift him up from the floor, but the man is fierce.

“Don’t touch me!” he curses out and the boys look defeated.

Hyunjin notices me and he yells out my name, relief washing his handsome face. Minho is a handful and I can’t even imagine the headaches he gave them.

Minho flinches at the sound of my name, and he gets up steadily as if he isn’t completely wasted.

“Hi, baby.” He purrs just like a cat would.

I love the way he gives me such sweet, but empty nicknames and the way they sound when he lets them be something more than just a word. He says them so gracefully, so mesmerizing as if he’s saying the most perfect prayer in the world. But he’s not. He uses pet names with every person who gets to be something more than just a friend.

“Would you stop yelling? People are watching you, hyung,” I pretend to scold him like a little kid.

He just sighs and sits back at the floor. He then pulls me closer by my waist.

I feel the embarrassment filling my cheeks and I already know Chan is questioning if calling me here was a good idea.

It probably wasn’t. Not when I decided to keep my distance from him, not when I imagined how it would be not to attend these stupid parties. I wonder how life would be without Minho.

But I feel ashamed. Ashamed that I could think that way while he’s holding me close, while he needs me. It feels like a child is holding me, scared and lost. How could I leave a lost child to wonder on his own?

“I don’t care. I just wanted you here and hyung didn’t let me call you,” he rashes out staring at Chan and if looks could kill, our friend would probably be six feet under the ground right now.

  
But Chan being Chan, he keeps quiet. I see him taking Hyunjin’s arm and whispering something in his ear. Hyunjin nods and turns around to the small group of people I don’t recall knowing. He tells them something, quiet enough for Minho not to hear, and they leave.

Changbin comes closer to me, shaking my shoulder and giving me a warming smile while Hyunjin just winks before both of them exit the room and leave the three of us alone.

“Let’s go. I will give you a lift,” Chan caresses my hair and he makes a “huff” sound before he reaches for the sleepy Minho. He struggles a bit, cursing Minho for being too heavy, so I help him to get up.

When we put the almost asleep boy in the backseat, I turn around to my oldest hyung.

“Channie hyung, I’m so sorry for making you do this. I know he’s bad,” I whine out, scared of the weight my words could carry, but still I continue, “But he wasn’t always like this.”

He just sighs and I can see the small puddles of cold air coming from his mouth. I recognize the cut on his eyebrow when he moves them and I can see every inch of his face very clearly. The morning already came.

“He’s also my friend and as much as it hurts me to see him this way, I know I can’t help him. And you can’t either. We can just be there for him when he needs us. It’s not like he deserves your help, but if you feel like you’re supposed to be next to Minho’s side, then be here, Jisung. Or if you want to leave and choose yourself and your own happiness for once, do it. Nothing would make me happier than to see you being happy. Minho or no Minho.”

My heart feels heavy the moment Chan’s words fall onto me.

“Thank you, hyung. I really mean it. He may be an idiot but he’s still my friend, I can’t just leave him. Not yet,” I whisper. I’m not ready. And Chan knows this. He knows it’s not up to me when should I leave.

It’s up to Minho. It has always been up to him, I think as I stare at the boy grumping and murmuring something in his sleep.

Chan nods his head and we both head into car.

The drive home is silent. I feel the tension in the air. It’s always present when I’m with this boy. No matter if he’s literally sleeping which means he’s unconscious. He is still here and that “here” is on my lap, on my being. I will always feel this stupid around him. I just know it.

We arrived soon and the moment we step out of the car, the low winter breeze slaps all of us in the face. Minho struggles to get out and I didn’t imagine it would be this hard trying to take him out. He may not be very heavy, but I’m not that strong.

Luckily, hyung helps me and we both take each of his arms in attempt to lift him up.

When we somehow make it to my dorm, Chan releases his grip and the entire weight of Minho’s falls over me, consuming me once again.

“Do you need more help with him? I would ask you if I could stay if I was scared for you, but I know Minho. He would never hurt you, especially not when he’s like this.” Chan declares and the growing pit in my stomach just hurts more.

I know he wouldn’t do anything to that point. Which hurts me and makes me feel relieved at the same time. What am I worth if he can’t even lift his hand on me? I’m fucked up, I know this. Why would anyone normal want to be hit by someone? But I can’t help it. I have been craving his touch, his whole being, almost my entire life and it gets really tiring trying to convince myself that I am worth something.

I slowly close my eyes just to open them again. It’s okay for Chan hyung to leave and he notices the way I feel grateful for the words he just said to me.

He turns around; leaving me completely alone with someone I don’t know anymore. I stare at his black shirt until he completely disappears from my sight. That’s when Minho opens his eyes and sees me. No, but like, he actually is looking at me this time.

His hair is messy, eye bags dropping on the floor. The wrinkled flannel shirt is hanging loose and I can smell his cologne mixed with alcohol and sweat. At that moment, I decide not to let him sleep until he showers. There is no way he’s getting on my bed looking and smelling like this.

“Hi,” he murmurs, but it is loud enough for me to take a deep breath and stutter over my words.

I hate the way his eyes seem so glossy, so full of something sweet, something extraordinary. His eyes had always been dull and dark; I’m not used to seeing stars in them. And I don’t know why, but I also stumble upon the reverie of his smile that shows off his pretty pink lips and perfect bunny like teeth. He seems so, oh so beautiful, so real. And it hits me like a truck. This is the boy I knew. This is the boy who used to make wooden dolls for me, the boy who hated seeing me sad so he always tried to cheer me up with chocolate and books. This boy held the world in one hand and my hand in the other. This boy patched up my open knee after I fell from the roof of my house. This boy took me to museum dates, to picnics, to the beaches and sunsets. This is the boy who made flower crowns with me on summer days and the one whose initials I still wear around my neck. This is the boy who hates hugs but also the boy who would cuddle me up on the cold autumn days back when we were kids. This is the boy who wrote letters to me, the boy who stood in front of my house for hours in the rain provoking me to come out because I was mad at him for something small. This is the boy who was my best friend.

I slap myself from the memories, flinching so hard, almost dropping the still drink boy in my arms.

He notices the sudden change in my mood and the smile that lingered on his face just a moment ago vanishes somewhere as if it was never there. He clears his throat, making me feel embarrassed for my thoughts. What good will it bring thinking about our past? We will never be those people again. And he looking at me the way he did once upon a time isn’t changing the truth.

Fifteen year old Lee Minho is dead and he is never coming back.

Like he knows I’m thinking about his past self, he releases the grip on my shoulders, trying to stand alone. His legs wobble just a little bit, but he manages to get inside, leaving me to wonder just how quickly this man sobered himself up.

The cats notice him and they run towards us like some small children missing their parents. They have probably been up for a very long time. I look at the almost empty bowls and feel relieved that they aren’t hungry yet.

Minho does indeed cuddle with them, in his own way. The cats purr loudly, killing the visible awkwardness in the air. I don’t know if it’s harder to handle the drunk or the sober Minho.

“You can take a shower and then go to bed,” I say as I’m opening my dresser taking out some of the big clothes I got just for him and for the situations like these. Although they don’t happen often, I still like to be prepared.

I take out a big black shirt and some shorts for him to change into. Sleeping will help him and if there’s one thing that I don’t want to deal with on a Saturday morning, it’s him being grumpy and sleepy.

He just nods; half sober already, takes the towel and clothes and leaves me alone with the whining cats.

Now that he’ll be gone for a while, I take a moment to breathe.

What the hell am I even doing? I shouldn’t be doing this. I am so tired of always being the last option, of being someone he goes to only when he’s got no one else left. It’s so horrifyingly painful; it makes me want to cry, so I do. I let the tears shower my cheeks for a while, just feeling miserable. I allow this because he takes long showers so I have time to cry for a bit.

After a few minutes pass, I get up, and clean my face with some baby wipes I have in the kitchen. He knows me regardless of me not knowing him. If I show any signs, he will know I cried.

I take my clothes off changing into some gray sweats and a plain black hoodie. I cover the long windows with dark blinds, not letting the fresh morning sun to come inside. I will let him sleep for as much as he wants to. I have some things to do anyway; I’m not staying here with him.

Minho finally shows up in the bedroom followed by the smog of the hot water coming from the bathroom. He is wiping his face and then his messy hair, making my stomach act up. He seems so hot with water still dripping onto his exposed torso. Do I remember the shirt being _this_ revealing?

I hate just how naturally my body reacts to him. It makes me feel uneasy, like I got no control left over my own self. I don’t belong to him, but I feel like I do.

“I left some food on the kitchen table for when you wake up. I changed the sheets and filled the food bowls for the cats. You don’t need to do anything, just get some rest. I have other things to do,” I stand up to leave, but he quickly pulls me back by my arm.

I stare at him blankly, not expecting this. What more does he want from me?

“Can you not go?”

I stumble and almost fall at his words.

“Minho hyung, I’m-“I start, but he cuts me off boldly.

“I _need_ you here. I didn’t call out for you for such a long time at that stupid party so you would drop me off and then leave me alone,” he harshly spurts his thoughts. “I don’t deserve that.”

I stare at him and feel my blood boiling. Somehow I can feel the hotness of the sun peeling my skin off even through the blinds that are securing the room. I hear the beating of my heart and it’s pretty loud and annoying, I wish I could rip it off and leave a hole inside of my chest so I wouldn’t be here, so I wouldn’t listen to these stupid words coming from his mouth as if he deserves to say them. I feel my pulse getting uneven, the drops of sweat forming on my forehead. One of the cats meows and I wonder what it’s like to live alone, completely alone, sheltered from them, or Minho, or friends or the human race in general. I can smell my own shampoo on Minho’s freshly washed hair and it smells intriguing but horribly wrong. He looks hot, but dazzlingly unreal in my bedroom, holding my hand, smelling like me. And his eyes are piercing, his eyes are heavy. It gets too much, all at once, my blood vessels riot inside of me, and my brain suddenly feels heavy and my feet begin to hurt where I’m standing. I don’t know if it’s the quietness of the morning being ruined by his manipulative words of if it’s just me having enough of this boy, but what comes out of my mouth surely isn’t pretty:

“But have you ever thought about what I deserve?”

He tenses up, digs his fingers into my bicep, making my skin burn. It will leave marks; I know by the way it hurts.

I can sense that I hit the nerve. But I had finally found some courage; I finally said something after seven years of being quiet and living in his shadow. But I’m so fucking fed up with whatever the fuck he is doing. And I have finally found the fucking balls to say something, so I plan on using this chance to the maximum, not caring about the consequences.

“Of course you haven’t, Minho,” I whine out, not caring about honorifics at the moment. “You never cared. You never cared about what I felt, what I wanted, what I didn’t want. You kept doing you for years, not caring about what I have to say about it. Not only did you abandon me and push me away from your life, but you also never allowed me to leave. I had to be trapped in there, in that fucking small town while you went to the same class I did, sitting with different people, but always coming to me after class just to see me. You wouldn’t even say shit to me! You would just stare like an idiot!” I yell out, tired, defeated, and most of all angry.

But I don’t back out, I continue my speech, “And then I finally got into this university, not with your help by the way, and out of all places in the world, out of all schools you could have attended to, you had to follow me here and ruin my peace again? Do you know how afraid I am while I go to classes and wait for Friday to come every single week? Do you know how much I hate to sit on your lap, waiting for you to allow me to leave, to finally set me free? Do you know how much I hate when you kiss me and then drop me? You know nothing. You only ever cared about yourself. I am sick and tired of being treated as a second option or no option at all. I am not your toy, you can’t just pick me up when you feel like it and then drop me and forget about me again. This has been going on since that day you came back from school seven fucking years ago, Minho. I don’t know what happened to you, but we both know I tried my best to comfort you, to give you silence and freedom when you needed that from me. I did everything right. I deserved,” I stop and he stares at me, eyes bloodshot and if I didn’t know him any better, I would think I see something similar to pain on his face.

“I DESERVED to be treated better. I don’t care what you went through; I don’t care about who you are. It’s for the boy that I called my best friend once, that’s why I stayed this entire time. I only had you and nana, Minho! I only ever had you. But this is not you.” I finally breathe again.

He lets go of my arm and I let it fall and hit my body. He stares at me and I swear I can see the droplets of sweat crippling onto his forehead, I can see how much he’s clenching his teeth and the way his hair is bouncing, no, shaking. He’s furious. He is completely and utterly furious.

I should feel afraid, but I don’t. I’m not the obedient, innocent and quiet Jisung anymore. I stood up for myself after years of crying and hiding and it’s visible on Minho’s face that he’s surprised. He didn’t expect this from me. And to be completely honest, neither did I.

“So can you please not call or search for me anymore. I won’t be coming to your parties, I won’t be sitting in class wondering when you’re going to show up and ruin my day. I won’t wait for you and you can take back these cats. I can’t stand any part of you anymore. I just want to set myself free from you. Is that so hard to understand? I despise everything about you.” The last words are a whisper, but Minho heard me, I know he did.

The last words are also not entirely true. But he doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t need to know that I love him, that I crave him and his touch and the cuddles and the way he used to take care of me when we were younger. He doesn’t need to know what he meant to me once upon a time. He doesn’t deserve it. My words may be harsh, I may be too hurt and this, all of this, may be too much, but the time has finally outplayed us. I won’t be quiet anymore. Not when he dared to speak the way he did as if I ever did anything wrong.

I stare at him for a while as he’s trying his best to calm himself down and he finally does. I had made him mad, so mad, but he somehow managed to destroy the anger and he seems himself again. Even that pain I thought I saw, it’s not there anymore. He is totally sober, just tired. He looks miserable and yet calm. As if I didn’t just say all these things, he sighs.

And I feel so stupid, so stupid that he isn’t even reacting the way I expected him to and I did so much right now. I spilled my words like a cup of a hot coffee, but he just got burned in an instant! It didn’t leave any marks, any scars!

Feeling defeated, the way I always felt with Minho, I smile ironically before grabbing the keys.

“Are you done, Ji?”

He didn’t call me by my nickname since I was fourteen years old. And before I could stop myself, my mind keeps racing, my vision going hazy and my mouth falls open, I see him, sliding the skateboard on the cool summer evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will this day ever end for jisung lmao
> 
> anyways, i wrote two first chapters through jisung's pov, but the rest will be like through 3rd person's pov. i just wanted to show how hurt and lost jisung actually feels, and i feel like doing it in 3rd person's pov could not be that detailed or can't be felt. so yeah, i hope you enjoy this chapter. i will be posting every week and the chapters will get much longer from here, since i write pretty quickly. but if i don't, don't kill me !!!


	3. I Will Go Home Alone

**_*7 YEARS AGO*_ **

****

_The boy with big green shirt is skating down the hill with amusement in his eyes. His movements are quick, experienced; he knows what he’s doing, which is surely a bit ironic because he has never done this before. Today is the first day of summer and he seems to enjoy it to most of his capabilities. He looks proud and confident of the way his legs move and how easy it is to flip the board without the wooden object hitting the ground. But he’s too focused, eyes fixated on the ground beneath him, he doesn’t notice the smaller, younger boy sitting behind the big tree. The younger boy is hiding his face and it is easy to do so; the tree has bloomed a long time ago, flowers can be seen all over, it’s a perfect disguise._

_He watches the movements of the taller boy and the way his hat almost drops at some moments, but he still manages to do his trick which resolves into both of them laughing for different reasons. One is happy that he finally made it and the other is mesmerized by the older boy. And he’s not sure what’s redder: the beautiful red flowers falling from the tree, or the shyness on his cheeks._

_Just like he heard his voice, the older boy turns around, letting the board drop on the floor._

_“Jisung!” he yells out, happiness present at the corners of his eyelids. Jisung barely moves so the other boy comes up to him first._

_They hug firmly, but Jisung protests because of the sweat smearing all over his shirt. “You’re dirty. Go and take a shower first,” Jisung yelps._

_The older boy doesn’t listen; instead he hugs Jisung even tighter, making both of them unable to breathe normally. Jisung likes it this way, he can’t lie. It’s always been fun to hang around his hyung, to watch him do what he loves, or to just be in his presence._

_The boys settle down onto the blanket Jisung had taken a seat just a moment ago. The leaves, along with flowers gracefully keep falling onto them, covering them in red._

_“You’ve mastered the skating, Minho. It looks amazing when you do it,” the boy smiles proudly. It gives him comfort, actually, knowing that Minho is finally figuring himself out and what he likes._

_Jisung is young and he is only thirteen, he’s allowed not to know what he wants or likes yet. But Minho is growing up, close to being a full developed teenager. High school has approached, things are changing and they are growing up now._

_“Thanks, Jisungie. That means a lot,” he pats the smaller boy’s head which makes the boy flinch from the hotness of his hand. It’s really hot these days._

_Minho looks down at his palms, then he brushes his wet damp hair removing it from his soaked forehead._

_“Oh yeah,” he remembers, “I heard nana isn’t doing well these days. She spoke to my mom, says her heart feels week lately. Is she doing okay?” Minho asks, worry evident on his face._

_Jisung sighs. His grandmother hasn’t been well since his parents died. It has nothing to do with regular sickness. What she’s suffering from is the loss of a child and that can’t be cured. Jisung knew that. It was hard, really. Watching her make breakfast or clean the house or do mundane things on her own. He felt bad as a kid, always trying to help her out as much as he could. But it’s been hitting her pretty hard lately. Jisung thinks it’s because she knows he’s growing up. And growing up means leaving and forgetting. But he won’t be like that; he won’t ever leave his nana._

_He doesn’t recall his parents that much. He misses them, especially his mom. He likes to think about how she would read him bedtime stories or take him to his first soccer game. And he likes to imagine his dad frowning when he gets a low grade or when he does something bad. It’s the beauty in those small family moments that he watches other children have. Jisung had never understood why some children hate their parents when they get mad or protective. He would have never treated his parents that way if he had them. But sadly, he doesn’t. They got into a car accident when Jisung was only four years old. Jisung survived the crash only because his mom protected him with her own body. What a beautiful and saddening thing all at once, Jisung thought, to be able to love someone deeply enough to risk your life for them._

_Since then, it has always been him and nana. And Minho, of course. Their parents were friends, so they got to know each other very early and had stuck by each other’s side for almost fourteen years now._

_Jisung gets his thoughts straight, removing the feeling of sadness that started washing over him._

_He suddenly remembers Minho’s question. “Ah, yes. She isn’t doing so well, but you know how it is. It’s that time of the year. Every year following the anniversary of their deaths, she falls extremely ill and can’t leave her bed for a few days,” Minho cups Jisung’s hand in a reassurance that everything will be okay eventually. But it’s okay. Jisung got used to it._

_“My parents prepared some stuff for the visit of their graves,” the older boy says. “They thought it was a good idea for us to go together tomorrow. Nana should stay home; I’ll have my grandmother come to her. She should rest; she visits them every Sunday anyway.” And Jisung agrees. She has been too ill this time. Going there would be too much for her to handle, so he writes a note in his head to convince her not to go._

_Minho suddenly stands up, wiping his jeans and stretching his body. He groans and Jisung laughs._

_“I have classes early in the morning, though. So I’ll talk to my parents and see if we can go a bit later in the day. You don’t stay here for too long, the sun is terribly frying the skin today. It looks like some kind of a burning summer awaits us.” He releases the grip of Jisung’s hand and takes his skateboard._

_But before he reaches the street, he turns around to look at the younger boy one more time. “Tell nana I said hi!” he screams at which Jisung just nods and laughs some more. “See you tomorrow, Ji.” The black haired boy walks away, a hat and a board still in his hands._

_Jisung stares at him for a while, looking at the green shirt slowly becoming just a tiny spot in the distance. Before Minho’s silhouette completely disappears, Jisung gets up, cleans and then folds the blanket he had taken from his grandmother’s room._

_He wipes the flowers from his lap and looks if there are any insects in his hair before he leaves the place. The sound of the trees hallowing leaves him breathless and he almost forgets to gather some flowers to bring home to nana._

_As he’s walking off, the sound of the close by river keeps devouring his ears. Jisung feels like it’s a cry for help._

**_*PRESENT*_ **

****

****

If Jisung could go back, he would. He would have stopped Minho from leaving, he would have taken his stupid skateboard and smash it, or make him do something with him for distraction. Because he desperately didn’t want for that “tomorrow” to come, but it did and it’s been a long time since then.

Minho had taken his classes that day and then he came back. But after he did, he didn’t show up at the cemetery the way he promised he would. Jisung only saw his parents and confusion kept washing over him when he didn’t see his hyung by their side.

But they said he’s fallen ill, that he’s not in a good enough shape to wonder at such places. Jisung believed them, why would they lie? But he found it suspicious. Minho was never the one to get sick as easy as they made it seem and neither would he miss nor break the promise had he made. Jisung knew that no matter how sick or terrible the boy felt, he would have still come.

It didn’t feel right. It didn’t bring him peace. And so he decided to meet him that evening. But it has been, up to this day, the most regretful thing Jisung had ever done in his life. Because when he entered Minho’s room, the boy sitting on the bed wasn’t his friend anymore. He saw a stranger trapped inside of a body he knew for a decade, he saw something he had never seen before and it made him scared. Even before he spoke any words, Jisung knew things have changed. But he never understood how or why. Minho never cared to answer his questions or to give any sort of explanation. The younger boy felt sad and betrayed, kept blaming himself. How could he not see, how could he not notice that something has changed? His friend probably needed help, but he was selfish, he didn’t acknowledge it. And so the years went by and things escalated quickly, leading them to where they are now.

Jisung stares at the boy in front of him. He has grown up beautifully. His face is perfectly sculptured, cheeks and nose thick and visible, lips plump and red. The entire body is graceful, curving in all the right ways, making his black shirt fall over and expose the juicy collarbones. Even the shorts, as long as they are, still don’t cover as much of Minho’s legs as Jisung would need to be able to breathe. It’s tight around his massive thighs and Jisung’s boxers compliment them well. He’s not particularly tall, but still much taller than Jisung. He looks and sees that it’s only a twenty two year old man in front of him, no sight of the fifteen year old boy. But once he looks up again, he sees those eyes, those tired and sad eyes and feels like there isn’t a single thing that resembles a kid he once used to know.

He flinches when he sees questionable look in Minho’s eyes. And then he remembers what the older boy said.

“Don’t ever call me that again,” he snaps, “You have no right to! I saved that nickname for the boy who _promised_ we would see each other tomorrow. But that tomorrow never came and neither did that boy. You have no right to act as if you know me,” the younger boy snaps, too eager to win this argument and leave.

Because Jisung really can’t handle it anymore. Not when Minho looks like _this_ , not when Jisung is exposed the way he has never been in his life. He’s afraid he’ll say more things and he’ll end up hurting Minho. Or worse, he’ll rush up to those arms of his, trying to find comfort in the arms of the one who never cared for Jisung.

“I’m sorry,” the older boy whispers and Jisung stands tall, arms hanging loosely next to his body.

Did he just apologize? No, that can’t be.

Jisung tenses his muscles before he asks, “What?”

“You heard me,” and he did, Jisung did hear. But he can’t believe his ears. Not after everything he has been through. Minho can’t apologize now, Jisung thinks it’s unfair.

He closes his eyes then slowly opens them again and they are full of rage. That sight makes Minho shiver even though the room is warm enough for him to be naked in.

“No,” the younger starts, “No, you can’t say that. Not now, not when I finally decided to go… You can’t be selfish like that!” he yells out, weakness spreading through his entire body.

“I can’t tell you anything,” he pleads, too tired to yell the way Jisung does. “I’m sorry, but I can’t, Jisung. I can’t you. You just need to trust me and stay by my side. I _need_ you.” he says it as a command even though his words are nothing but a whisper.

Jisung’s rage fills his ribcage, making him hate Minho, making him regret all the good things he did for him.

“And I needed you through these years as well. I just needed to hear those words of reassurance, that we were still good, that our relationship didn’t change even when everything else did. But you refused to even talk to me. You don’t get to talk about who deserves what. Because trust me, you deserve nothing.” He slurps, knowing damn well that even though Minho changed completely, he still knows how to hurt. And Jisung’s words are hurting him, maybe even more than he realizes.

He finally reaches for the door handle, but he turns around one last time, “I wish I had never met you.”

With that, he exits the apartment, closing the door harshly. One of the cats meows aggressively making Minho jump from the interruption of his thoughts. And he feels hurt, oh how terrible it is to love someone you are never supposed to love.

***

Jisung is sobbing uncontrollably in his best friend’s arms, soaking Jeongin’s gray shirt completely.

“There, there. It’s okay, Hannie,” the younger tries to comfort his friend, rubbing his back carefully with so much love and understanding.

“I shouldn’t have said that to him. You should have seen his face, Jeongin. I have never seen him be that hurt before,” Jeongin caresses his hair and removes some of the shreds of hair from his face.

In that moment, Felix enters the room. He stares at the boys hugging and hears sobs coming from the older boy. He looks at Jeongin with a question mark flying around his head. Jeongin just shakes his head and whispers “Minho” and it’s all that takes for Felix to understand it.

“I’m- I’m sorry I’m interrupting you, guys. Are you okay?” he kneels down, touching Jisung’s arm. The boy turns around, makeup smeared around his eyes from crying and he pulls Felix in for a hug. The two sane boys stare at each other.

“Han… Is everything okay?” he asks, but already knows the answer all too well.

“No… I was stupid. I told Minho… I told him...” he stutters, tears falling onto his cheeks.

“What? You said something that hurt him?”

“I said something I didn’t mean.”

Felix doesn’t question what; he knows the boy will share it when he’s ready.

But Jisung truly feels like he said an awful thing. But why is he feeling sorry, he said that awful thing to an equally awful person, right?

“Okay, I see y’all crying here like some sappy bitches and that’s not who you are. You are bad bitches, okay? And it’s almost night time, we should go to some club or something,” Seungmin suddenly says.

Jisung looks at him all confused. “When did you get here?” the boys question, but he just shakes his hand.

“And club? We never go to clubs though,” Felix yelps.

“So? We are about to do it now,” Seungmin insists.

“Is Jeongin even old enough for clubs?” Jisung asks, tears completely dried on his face.

That makes Jeongin laugh, but he pretends he’s offended. “Hey! I just turned twenty a few days ago, why are you bullying me?” he playfully hits Jisung’s arm which makes the boy giggle.

Jeongin smiles and so does everyone else. If the club is what takes for Jisung to smile, then Felix thinks he’s okay to do it.

“So,” Seungmin cups his hips, “Will you go or what?”

Jisung doesn’t think twice before he answers, “Yes! But please, can we go to an actual club? I’m so tired from these frat parties and I think I got a phobia from them or something,” He begs thinking of Minho and his stupid parties.

“Who said anything about a frat party? Do I look like a frat boy to you?” Seungmin raises his eyebrows and Felix gags at the thought of it.

“Exactly,”

“Okay, now let’s get ready! I haven’t been in a club for fucking ages!” Jeongin teases.

“That’s because you never went to a fucking club!” Felix yells back at the boy leaving the room before he follows.

The room stays silent after they exit with their giggles and laughter.

Seungmin notices Jisung looking a little better, but he still sits next to the boy. “You okay? If he did something stupid again, I will beat him. Or I’ll make Changbin beat him, he can’t say no to me,” He offers.

Jisung chuckles, closing his eyes. Seungmin really has his ways to make him feel better. “Thanks, Minnie, but please don’t. That’s risky,”

“Nothing is as risky as what he constantly does to you. If you allowed me for once, I would beat him a long time ago,” Seungmin says playfully, but he actually means it and Jisung knows.

Not just Seungmin though. He knows all of his, and probably many of Minho’s friends, would beat the shit out of him if Jisung only asked. But violence won’t solve his problems and it won’t bring him his friend back. It can’t turn back the time and make Minho show up that day and it won’t make him feel any better neither.

“Thanks, Seungminnie,” the boy shyly says, “I really appreciate it.”

Seungmin then stands up, resting his hand on Jisung’s shoulder just for a few short minutes before he heads towards the door. “Well come on now,” he turns, “That club won’t party by itself, hurry up before we are late,” he screams at the boy and Jisung can finally feel some relief before he remembers Minho is probably in his apartment, sleeping. He doesn’t care though. For the first time, he doesn’t care.

***

Han Jisung is everything except ordinary and it’s even visible in the way he dresses. Though, he never actually dresses this way when he goes out with Minho. His choice is always some hoodie and jeans or sweats, but his today’s outfit is very different.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He is wearing dark blue jeans ripped on his knees, all covered in some sort of white paint, it looks like all the starts from the sky magically dropped onto a new set of jeans Jisung bought just a few days ago. The upper part of his body is covered with a black shirt, but the shirt is a see through so he managed to tuck it in his jeans, leaving most of his abdomen to the imagination. His tiny waist is complimented with a strong belt. He decides to go for some big black boots that could probably break anyone’s neck if he steps on them.

Jisung isn’t really good at makeup so Felix helped him to apply some. And he looks pretty good with some sparkly black eye shadow and pink glossy lips. He takes the last look in the mirror, forehead hidden beneath his perfect navy blue hair just the way he likes it. After he chooses some dangly star shaped earrings, he decides to fill most of his fingers with pretty rings. Most of the rings are unique and custom made. He isn’t sure about the contacts but he still chooses to get the blue ones so he could match them with his hair.

He looks a bit older than he really is, but he’s going to a club anyways. He’s _supposed_ to look older, right?

Someone knocks at the door which startles the boy making him jump.

“Are you ready yet? We have to go,” Felix pleads and Jisung takes a deep breath before he decides to enter the room.

But he’s welcomed with three pairs of eyes staring at him and they all look amazed and mesmerized. What is it? Did Jisung do something wrong? Maybe the shirt is really too revealing or maybe he did too much with the jewelry.

“You look…” Jeongin starts.

“Horrifyingly beautiful.” Felix finishes Jeongin’s sentence.

“Holy cow, you’re going to make every guy fall in love with you. None of us stand a chance,”

“First of all, Seungmin, how can a cow be holy? And second of all, you aren’t gay and neither am I. that basically leaves these two,” the boy explains pointing both of his index fingers at Jeongin and Jisung. They have been openly gay even though Jisung struggled a little. But the boys accepted them without a say.

Seungmin rolls his eyes, “It’s just an expression, Felix, for God’s sake. And you’re as straight as Chan’s natural hair. And I can’t believe you called me straight. I’m bisexual; I don’t know what’s not clear.”

“But you prefer girls,” Felix defends himself, but doesn’t mention the way Seungmin literally called him out.

“So? That’s still bisexual,”

The two boys continue their bickering, so Jisung turns to the youngest one.

“You look so beautiful, Hannie,” Jeongin compliments with awe in his eyes. “Are you okay with this though? I know you hate parties since… well you know.”

“It’s okay, I don’t hate clubs. I’ve never been to one actually so I can’t really judge,” he says nervously. “I’m still kind of afraid, though. If someone actually does flirt with me, not that they will!” he says, not believing anyone will actually find him attractive. “But if they do, I don’t know how to act. I’ve never been in a relationship before,”

And even through the loud argument with Felix, Seungmin turns around, “You go to club for hookups, one night stands. No one goes in a club to find the love of their life, Jisung. They go there to get laid,” he explains, annoyance evident on his face.

Jisung’s ears go red. “I didn’t-“

“And you’re beautiful, everyone will adore you.” Seungmin apologizes, saving the situation.

Can we just go already?” Felix dangles with his flower shaped earrings.

They decide that Felix should drive them because Jisung is too excited and the two other boys never got their driving license. Seungmin defends himself saying that he can’t be both gay and know how to drive on which Felix (with pleasure and amusement) corrects him that he’s bisexual and Seungmin gets mad and tells him to shut up.

As the boys are rambling, Jisung’s phone buzzes. He takes the phone from his pocket expecting anyone else, but of course it just has to be Minho.

The desperation is visible even through the messages he sent. But Jisung couldn’t care less.

**_Minho hyung:_ **

_i fed the cats and left the dorm and also stuffed your key in your postbox_

_where are u tho?_

_jisung??? can we please talk already I wanna meet you_

_are you still going to the frat house??_

_hello?????_

Jisung closes the chat and turns his phone off completely. He knows Minho would never do something bad to his apartment, or the cats. He’s not that type of a person, so in that field, he can’t help but trust his long lost friend.

But when it comes to other things, like finding the whereabouts of the younger, he won’t spoil that. Minho should go fuck himself and that’s the last thing Jisung thinks about Minho before they arrive at the club.

The club sure isn’t like anything Jisung expected. They got in without any problems, though he feels uncomfortable and like he doesn’t belong here. But those feelings fade away the moment he sees the interior.

Because the club is more than beautiful, neon lights smearing through the air, falling onto each person in the club. But it is crowded, not in a bad way, though. They all look like they are having fun. And there are not many people he knows from college. Most of them are at least a few years older than them, women and men both. It’s not too much, it’s not consuming and everyone is just having the time of their life. It’s not all about drinks and drugs, it’s not about getting wasted, people are just trying to enjoy.

He always felt like they hold those frat parties to show off themselves, both in hostility, alcohol and drugs. He never met a person who actually enjoys those parties, they all just want to get completely wasted, to show off their capacity, Jisung thinks. Or for sex. Everyone is just so obsessed with sex.

But it’s different here. People actually seem to enjoy, Jisung thinks innocently, not knowing that clubs are far worse than any frat party, hosted by Lee Minho or anyone else.

“Wow, it’s so crowded,” Jeongin is the first to speak and Jisung almost flinches at the sound of his friend’s voice, forgetting that they came along.

Seungmin rolls his eyes; Jisung can see him even in the dark. “Yeah, no shit. It’s a club,”

“Let’s fucking go. I wanted to come here and dance for such a long time. The last club was actually so boring and the guys in there weren’t even that pretty,” he ignores the questionable eyes. “At least girls were hot, can’t lie there,” he continues, smirk visible on his lips.

“I don’t think I heard you right. Last club? You went to clubs before?”

“Of course I went to clubs, I just hid it from all of you because you’re fucking nerds who diss clubs and parties every chance you get. I didn’t want to expose myself.”

Felix shrugs his shoulders. “We don’t hate parties, we just don’t enjoy it. And we wouldn’t judge you if we knew that you liked them, you should have just told us,” but Seungmin just shakes his head, horrified of the thought of it knowing damn well they would tease him about it for weeks if they found out earlier.

“Speak for yourself, I may have never went to a club before but I still wanted to,” Jeongin happily says.

“So that’s where you’ve been all those times we hang out but you said you couldn’t go with us?” Jisung connects the dots, teasing his friend.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything; instead he takes Felix’s hand and leads him to the middle of the dance floor. He starts dancing immediately. Felix complies in a second, and his moves are pretty good. Jisung thought that boy didn’t know anything about dancing, but he seems so good at it.

“What now?” Jeongin stares.

“I need a drink for this,” the older boy sighs like he’s an expert and heads to the bartender.

The bartender is pretty cute, Jisung thinks as he’s ordering two shots of vodka.

He isn’t an expert when it comes to drinks, but he watched Minho drink countless of times and he knows what drinks are less likely to get him drunk. Vodka is definitely not one of them, that’s why he wants it, he wants to get drunk tonight.

“Maybe you should try only one first?” the pretty boy laughs, obviously amused by the determination set on Jisung’s face, not noticing the younger boy by Jisung’s side.

“Just give me two shots, please,” he says as nice as he can without making the man feel uncomfortable.

But Jeongin doesn’t seem very happy. “Han, maybe you should order just one? For the starters?” the boy awkwardly smiles.

“Oh, one is for me and the other one is for you.”

“There’s no way I’m drinking,” Jeongin looks horrified.

“Yes you are,” and Jeongin does. Not because he wants to but because Jisung is quick to remind him why they came here tonight. And Jeongin loves his friend, if it takes a few shots of vodka to make Jisung happy, then he’ll do it. It’s not like something horrible is about to happen because of it, right?

And so they start slowly, but number of shots Jisung takes just keep rising. And when he feels his head being light, he finally pulls his friend onto the dance floor. For the first time since he was a kid, he feels free. He feels like he can do anything now. There’s no pain or suffering, no heavy thoughts destroying him. There’s no his dead parents or his grandmother who’s struggling extra hard lately. Not even Minho, not the boy he cherished his entire life. He is free; he is finally free from everyone and everything. And it’s so peaceful dancing in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by so many people he doesn’t even know. His friends are here, all laughing and enjoying and he thinks if he’s about to feel like this every time he gets lightly drunk or tipsy, it’s worth drinking from time to time. It’s worth it because for once he feels happy.

And there are random people, too, all wanting to dance with them, with Jisung. It’s not forced; they are touching him instead of telling him to get out of their lap like someone else would. They smile at him, making him feel wanted, cared for. It’s not just boys though, girls are there, too. They take his hand; shake their body next to his.

It’s such a carefree moment, with people he likes, with random people who won’t judge him. It’s free of the abuse and pain because there are no promises, nothing has to happen, but everything is still happening.

He’s too caught up in the moment, in Felix’s big smile, Seungmin’s flirty attitude and Jeongin’s shy face, and even in all of these random people. He doesn’t notice the two boys entering the club, one of them being as angry as a wildcat.

But Seungmin does.

“Oh boy, oh no. We are so dead,” he says while grabbing Jeongin and Jisung’s hand. Felix stares blankly at his friend.

“What? What do you mean?”

But Jisung is too caught up. Some random boy is guiding his hips in the same beat the music is playing at and he can almost feel the tension in the air, it’s like he’s wanted. He never found himself pretty or sexual in any way but a stranger is touching him in the way he would probably never allow if he was completely sober and he likes it. He likes it because he knows this boy would fuck him only if he dared to ask.

And so he doesn’t notice the angry boy throwing daggers at him, and making his way to the dance floor. He only recalls something isn’t right when a heavy hand drops onto his shoulder and pulls him from the man he’s dancing with.

And before he can take a second look, someone’s fist lands on the man’s face gracefully, knocking him out on the floor.

Jisung turns around and ends up being face to face with Minho, with the last person he wants to see right now.

“What the fuck?” the man struggles, holding up on the floor, jaw bleeding onto his shirt.

“This should teach you not to touch anyone’s property.” The boy clenches his fist again, making the angriest expression Jisung had ever seen.

The man quickly gets up, struggling not to fall again. He cleans the smeared blood from his lips, glaring at Jisung. “I didn’t know you had a whole ass boyfriend? Hey, man,” he looks at Minho, “I’m so sorry, I thought he was single.” And with that he leaves, scared he’ll actually end up in a fight he’s not prepared for.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Jisung slurps out, almost punching Minho the same way he punched an innocent person. Why does he feel the need to make everything about him? And how dare he call Jisung his property. The words Minho said keep luring Jisung in, making him hate the boy more and more as each second passes.

“You didn’t have to do this shit. And you don’t fucking own me. Stop following me or talking to me, I don’t want to see you ever again.” Jisung sprints from Minho’s heavy hand and his friends keep staring, afraid of the man Minho had grown up to be. But they also look surprised; no one is used to Jisung cursing or being angry.

He exits the club, harshly putting down the empty glass on the table.

“Good job, Minho,” Seungmin is the first one to speak, making the already awkward tension more awkward. “If you don’t love him, if you _can’t_ love him, please leave him alone. He doesn’t deserve this and you know it.”

He suddenly grabs Jeongin and Felix’s hand and leaves the same way Jisung did just a moment ago. At that, Hyunjin turns around to his friend who’s dumbfounded. He didn’t expect this behavior, not from Jisung who was always so obedient.

“He’s right, you know? Seungmin is right.” and Minho does know. He does know and that’s perhaps the only reason why he hates it. Jisung doesn’t deserve this indeed and he wishes he had other options, but he doesn’t. He can only be selfish like this. He needs Jisung and he’s always going to need him, nothing will ever change that. But he can’t have him as a lover or a normal friend. Things have changed, he didn’t expect he would ever act or think the way he does today. So he makes Jisung feel guilty, he makes him question if he’s worth enough to even leave him and that’s why, Minho knows, Jisung isn’t leaving. He desperately wants to stay by Minho’s side, he loved Minho and he still loves him. But these small acts of rebellion make Minho wonder if the boy is growing up already.

And for the first time in seven years, Minho thinks he may not be the same Jisung he knows. If he’s going to leave him, Minho must do something about it.

***

“Will you please wait up for me?” Minho angrily says while grabbing Jisung’s hand sharply.

Jisung is not drunk, he sobered up enough to know what is going on and he is able to make much more rational decisions than for example Seungmin or Felix. They are dead drunk.

“Hyunjin, can you drop them off at Jeongin’s place, please? Felix is too drunk to drive and Jeongin doesn’t know how to,” he pleads at the black haired boy, already giving him the keys. The boys don’t say anything. Felix look like he’s about to pass out at any moment and Seungmin’s control from just a few minutes ago crumbled the moment drinks hit his stomach.

“Of course,” he obligates immediately, holding Seungmin and Felix so they wouldn’t drop on the floor.

“Jisung?”

“Jeonginnie, please go with Hyunjin and take care of them. I’ll be fine. I’m sober enough and he won’t hurt me, you know he won’t,” Jisung begs the younger boy who gives him a worried look.

“But-“

“Please? I promise I’ll be okay. I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” he offers a negotiation.

Jeongin isn’t completely satisfied, but he knows he can’t beat Jisung. “Okay. Just take care of yourself.”

Hyunjin and Jeongin somehow manage to get the two drunken boys in the backseat, but they are heavier than Jeongin remembers. He quickly slides into the front seat, stealing one last glance at Jisung. Jisung smiles in order to comfort the boy and then he waves.

The black Volvo gets lost in the darkness of the night and Minho and Jisung stay still in the middle of the street, the crowd and the music being just a background noise.

“We have to talk about this,” Minho whispers, the words already hurting him as he speaks.

But Jisung doesn’t seem to listen or if he does, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he brushes his hair with his fingers and fixes the collar of his shirt, trying to look presentable.

He starts walking and Minho stares dumbly at the boy. Where is he going?

“Jisung? Hello? Where are you going?” he asks with confusion evident on his face. But the younger boy speeds and pretends like Minho isn’t there.

Minho gets irritated, but worried regardless. “Will you stop please?” he says before he cuts Jisung’s sprint by standing quickly in front of him. This causes Jisung to bump onto his chest.

“Home.” He murmurs.

“Yeah, I’m trying to go home as well. But we can take a car and drive there. I have a car, you know?”

“Stop talking to me like I’m an eleven year old kid who can’t understand heavy sentences. I know what a car is,” Jisung snaps, which results in Minho laughing.

But the younger just freezes.

“What are you doing?”

Minho glances at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny.” he says with such anger. But then he realizes Minho has never showed emotions like this before. Are things really changing?

“It isn’t,” Minho agrees.

“Why are you laughing then?” If it’s a game, Jisung is quick to play along. He won’t be fooled anymore. Minho is tricky, he can do anything and if that anything is faking what he feels or wants, he will do it. Jisung knows him for that much at least.

But Minho doesn’t stutter. “I don’t know. Maybe you look beautiful when you’re pissed. Maybe I want to kiss you. I haven’t decided yet.”

Jisung stares. If you had asked him will Minho ever say something beautiful to him, thirteen year old Jisung would say he absolutely would. Twenty year old Jisung would laugh at you for even thinking about something as stupid as that. But here he is, after all the stuff that went down, after all those painful moments Jisung was forced to endure, Minho had called him beautiful and he said he wishes to kiss him. It’s completely new feeling, he wonders if he had reached the point in his life where he gets to be loved back.

Jisung is a fool. Jisung believes him.

And Minho is not feeling well. He said those words and he saw the sparkle in Jisung’s eyes, he saw he raised hope and he knows he had sparked something in Jisung all over again. He did his job right; he made Jisung stay once again. Is it this easy? Is it as easy as saying a few words? Is that all it takes for his friend to stay by his side? He knows it is. Jisung has always been like that. Gift him a few nice words and show him some affection and he will crumble, he will melt on your fingertips. But Minho feels guilty, he feels so regretful about the things he does. It’s so shameless, so selfish and wrong that it almost makes him want to cry. He isn’t supposed to be this type of a person.

He apologizes to Jisung in his head. He wishes, after all of this comes to an end that Jisung will forgive him. But it’s a false hope and Minho knows it.

After he figures Jisung won’t say anything, he grabs his hand and leads him to the car.

He opens the door, “Get inside,” and Jisung does, foolishly, he does.

Minho sits at the driver’s seat and rubs his eyes. After he starts the engine and leaves the club, he can feel his heart shrink with each passing mile.

As Jisung thinks if this is really Minho, the older boy thinks of that summer night he last spoke to Jisung as a normal friend. He wishes he never came back early from school, he wishes he didn’t hear what he heard. And he wishes things were different.

The night wind keeps lurking into the window folding itself around the two young boys, so Minho pulls the window down, killing the last bit of the moment he had spent in grief about lost moments and heavy emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kids pls and take care of your friends if they are drunk !!
> 
> i am the blue haired jisung enthusiast so pls let's all recall that iconic 2018 MAMA look pls i miss it so much, he looked so ethereal BRING BLUE HAIRED JISUNG BACK PLS !!!


	4. Forgive Them Even If They Are Not Sorry

“You can stop here. Park the car in front of the building to the left where the parking lot is. Felix will get his car tomorrow if he ends up being sober enough to drive.” Jeongin asks after a huge moment of silence.

He had spent the entire ride home curled up on the front seat, cold and angry. Angry at Jisung for not texting him yet, angry at his friends for being drunk and angry at himself for not taking better care of them. But most of all, he is angry at Hyunjin for being as caring as he always is.

It’s not a secret he has been in love with Hyunjin since the moment he landed his eyes on him. Well, it’s not a secret to his friends. Hyunjin, however, doesn’t know. And if Jeongin is the one at charge, and he is, the boy won’t ever know.

Jeongin knows love can’t be forced. It can’t be made into something it’s not. And he isn’t the type of person who’d hurt someone for his own satisfaction and he definitely isn’t planning to become one now. Love is simple, much simpler than we are making it to be. It truly is ‘love me and accept me and I’ll do the same for you’.

He also knows Hyunjin can’t love him back. He has a girlfriend and she is so beautiful; Jeongin feels jealous sometimes. The boy is happy and it’s evident in the way he smiles when she enters the room or how his eyes hold fireworks when she is talking about the things she loves.

Jeongin met Hyunjin the first year of college. He is a second year, but he takes almost all the classes Jeongin takes. And since they kind of share the same friend group because of Jisung and Minho, they started interacting. That led to a new friendship and both would say that they are really good friends.

Well, Jeongin would add some other things to that as well. But he can’t.

Tonight is no different.

Hyunjin does as he’s told, parking the car very close to Jeongin’s dorm apartment, making it easier for them to carry the passed out friends in the back.

But as he’s about to leave the car Hyunjin’s phone rings. And even before Jeongin looks back at the boy, he sees a smile and knows who texted him. She always has that effect on Hyunjin.

“It’s Jangmi. She is coming to pick me so I don’t have to walk home,” he looks at the boy with star shaped pupils. “Can you manage with them?” And Jeongin nods with a smile.

What else can he say? And before he could start to pull Felix’s arms, he sees a white Range Rover sliding onto the parking lot. “Bye, Innie. See you on Monday!” With those words, he leaves and Jeongin feels small, much smaller than he truly is.

Jeongin can see the girl through the window glass and she looks extra pretty tonight. He knows he’s not going home alone the same way he’s not going to sleep alone either. Her name truly suits her – jangmi (rose). Beautiful, but full of thorns. How could he ever compete with that?

After they leave, he opens the doors and helps Felix and Seungmin to exit the car. And because he is pissed he has to do this alone, he almost forgets he has to lock the car.

“Stupid boys. And stupid Hyunjin. God, why are you so heavy Seungmin?” But he’s cursed by the older boy and Felix, even half asleep, giggles at Seungmin’s remark and Jeongin’s struggle.

As he reaches the dorm and throws the ungrateful boys on the floor, Seungmin sprints to the bathroom and Felix starts screaming for him not to throw up before he does.

“If any one of you throw up on my clean white carpet, I will absolutely murder you without a second thought!” For the answer, he hears the loud burping and gagging.

He smiles with eyebrows raised in an angrily way. His phone does a little ‘ding’ and on the lock screen there is a text from Jisung.

**_HANNIE <3_ **

****

_arrived home safely_

_are the guys okay? did Hyunjin devour you? ;)_

_gays*_

**_IN_ **

****

_Send a pic so I know Minho didn’t murder u and that it’s really u_

_Also u are so disgusting when u are drunk_

_Don’t ever drink again_

_I’m serious_

****

**_HANNIE <3_ **

****

_*one picture attached*_

_i’m perfectly fine thanks_

_speak for yourself tho bruh u look wasted_

_is it the “hwang hyunjin typa drug”? ;))))_

**_IN_ **

****

_HE HAS A GF !!!_

_AND U HAVE BETTER WORRIES_

_FOR EXAMPLE MINHO_

_Don’t let him peg u, nini <333_

**_HANNE <3_ **

****

_U ARE A LITERAL CHILD_

_PLS STOP I FEEL VIOLATED_

_PLUS, THAT WAS SO UNCALLED FOR U LITTLE SHIT_

*seen*

Jisung leaves the phone on the little desk next to his bed.

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” he suddenly looks up to Minho standing next to his bed. “I’m going to sleep and you’re going to leave and go to your own dorm. Or wherever you want to go, I don’t really care.” Jisung dictates with his arms tightly crossed on his chest.

It’s new and unfamiliar; Jisung had never talked this way towards Minho before. Be it their age difference, or love status, or relationship level or just how Jisung felt he needed to talk. But he is done with pretending he is innocent and nice and he definitely won’t do whatever his friend says anymore. Well, he _is_ nice still. That didn’t really change at all. It’s just that the person standing in front of him doesn’t deserve it.

It took him a while, it surely did. Seven years isn’t a small amount of time and he has wasted his teenage years on pain and misery. He has felt more embarrassed than happy, more in pain than joyful. It isn’t right; he should have lived like every other teenager. It was not his responsibility to take care of someone who never showed signs that he wanted to be taken care of.

But Jisung is at this stage, stage of accepting and moving on. He still has so much love for Minho. He was his best friend and he knows him the same way he knows himself. But sometimes friendships and relationships in general break and there is no force on this earth that could mend it. He didn’t know that. But he does now. Being Minho’s friend and somewhat lover is tiring and disappointing, it doesn’t lead anywhere. And he will be damned if he goes on with his life in the same way.

It’s time for change and Jisung knows it. It hurts, perhaps it always will, but he has to choose himself for once.

“What do you mean? I thought I could sleep here or we can go someplace else? Maybe the party or something like that,” Minho says, confused.

“No. I won’t do what you want to do anymore. It’s never me, Minho. It has always been you and we always have to do what you want. I have to go wherever you go even if I hate it. I have to do the stupid shit you want me to do. I can’t live like that anymore,” the young boy whispers, tears stocking inside of his eyelids.

But no, he won’t cry. He can’t allow that to himself. And Minho can’t see him cry because if he does, he will think Jisung still cares. And he does, but it’s not working out anymore.

The boy shakes his head, in complete oblivion. “If that’s the problem, fine. We can start doing what you want, what you _love._ I can go anywhere, do anything, it doesn’t matter because it is for you. Please, don’t kick me out like this. We have been friends for nearly twenty years, Jisung. I just-“

But Jisung immediately cuts him off. “Have we?”

“What?”

“Friends, I mean. Have we truly been friends? Even after you left me alone on that stupid cemetery? Even after I came to your house to see if you’re okay and saw you in _that_ shape? Even after you ruined every piece of my heart, of our friendship? Even after you kissed me for the first time? Even after I spent seven years defending you, finding excuses and forgiving everything you weren’t even sorry for to begin with?” he lashes out, a small tear managing to get away from his eye. It wetness his cheek, but he quickly removes it with his hand. It’s just not worth it.

Minho just stares in denial. This is his Jisung, Jisung he has known for such a long time, he can’t be doing this; he can’t be acting like this. He deserves it, Minho thinks. He can’t say he doesn’t. He can’t act offended or hurt. But he is hurt and he thinks it’s normal to express it, to show. Jisung must know, he must see, it was so visible throughout all these years. How does he not see it?

“Jisung, I-“

“Just fucking say what you want to say,” but Minho doesn’t do as told.

Instead, he manages to gather the last bit of courage. Will it help him or will it just make it worse? He doesn’t know. All he knows, all he wants to do is finally say it, finally confess it. But it should be wrong, it should be shameful. Because if he says it now, what did they even do these last few years? Why did he act this way towards Jisung if he is going to crumble the moment Jisung gives some resistance?

He can’t say it. If he says it, the truth will unfold in front of them, Jisung will find out and it will leave him in shreds. He can’t hurt Jisung this way. Not after he swore that Jisung will never find out.

_You’re breaking his heart by letting him stay next to your side, allowing him to love you, but never touching him and that is very selfish of you._ And that little voice in his head is right. What Minho is doing is absurd and it pains Jisung more than he deserves.

But he can’t help it. He can’t let himself completely go. Leaving Jisung would destroy him.

“You know what? I take that back. Don’t tell me anything because I don’t want to hear it anymore,” Jisung changes his mind, hurt evident on his face. “I had a rough day and it’s almost two in the morning. I have to sleep, tomorrow is Sunday which means I have to visit nana.”

“Nana?”

“Yes, Minho, nana. Or did you forget about her? The same way you did seven fucking years ago?” Minho’s chest hurts. He knows he deserves being spoken to in this tone and way, but he is definitely not used to it. What had happened? What made Jisung switch up after such a long time?

“You’re looking at me like you don’t recognize me. Why? Is it because I am not obedient anymore or is it perhaps because I finally decided to speak for myself?” Jisung wonders out loud, the spite in his voice can be heard and Minho can feel the sadness ripping over him.

But still, he doesn’t say anything. Fighting against Jisung isn’t going to fix anything. He remembers him as a kid as well. You could never win against Jisung in any sort of fight or argument. Minho just thought he would never see that side of him again and now that he is, he finally realizes how much he had missed Jisung and all Jisung used to represent.

“Can I go with you tomorrow?” After all, he does miss Jisung’s grandmother. She was and still is such a lovely woman. She had always taken care of Minho like he was her grandson as well. She loved him more than his parents did and it was amazing having her by Minho’s side. But she started to resent him after Jisung started drowning himself more and more. She isn’t dumb and it was visible, their relationship was visible even to such an old person. Grandmother fought against it for a long time, trying to get them to talk normally to each other, to fix their relationship. But her old age weren’t much of a help, and when she fell down and had to be hospitalized most of the time, she finally gave up.

“If you have no shame, do as you wish.” Jisung sighed, tired and exhausted from fighting back.

They both expect for Minho to leave. Even the cats, it’s like they wonder when will the evening finally end and when are they going to stop fighting.

But Minho doesn’t leave. He takes the other side of the bed and Jisung doesn’t say anything.

In any other situation, Minho would probably reach out to Jisung in his sleep and hug him, kiss his hair or eyes, but tonight he doesn’t do those things. They both know that the situation has changed and they can’t act the way they used to.

Minho can’t be more hurt because of it, but Jisung feels relief. He feels as if he had finally taken the road that leads to his own self instead of the one that always leads to the boy sleeping in his bed. He is finally reaching his hands to his soul and sleeping like this, still with Minho by his side, he finally feels like he is enough.

On the other side of the bed, the night is colder and Minho has never felt this alone in his life.

***

The smell of the hospital is something Jisung has hated ever since he was a little boy. It wasn’t nice going there and accompanying grandma on her weekly checkups. But then that changed, too. Her state got worse and they both knew it was the best to leave her at the hospital where they could care for her all the time. With classes and exams, Jisung had little to no time for the woman he had loved his entire life.

The floors are polished and it smells like some sorts of medicine in the hallway. The white walls are clean and the doors look sterile, the way they always do. He also hated hospitals because they are so dark and quiet. They felt like some sort of sickness that could spread all over your body if you just stay in there for too long.

Minho is holding Jisung’s arm and he seems so lost, so extremely sad and scared.

“What? You can’t handle hospitals, but you can handle all those parties, huh?” Jisung whispers and laughs sarcastically as he opens the door with the number three written on it alongside Jisung’s grandmother’s name: Mae Aera.

Minho doesn’t say anything, but he clenches his jaw and grabs Jisung much tighter, almost slamming him to his own body.

Jisung makes a disgusted face, but he doesn’t move away. “Nana?” he says slowly, almost completely whispers the words just so he wouldn’t wake his grandmother up if she is perhaps sleeping.

But the old woman is sitting up on the bed, looking at Jisung and she is smiling. Her smile isn’t the same smile Jisung remembers as a kid. He doesn’t know if it’s her old age or just the struggles she is going through every day. Maybe it’s because of the sickness as well.

Aera is also looking fabulous, given the thought that she is almost ninety years old. Her hair isn’t as long, or as dark as it used to be, it’s now barely holding on and it’s gotten pretty gray. It’s almost as she had been born with it, it’s a part of her now. Her face lights up when she sees her grandchild, but there is no more joy in that sight, no more glitter behind her eyes and that flush on her cheeks has faded away with time. Jisung noticed every new wrinkle, dot or a spot on her delicate face. But still, she is just as beautiful as she was on those old white and black pictures that she keeps on the attic of their house, deep hidden in an old box. Her petite body curls around the nightgown just enough to fill it in, but it is too much. Jisung realizes she had lost so much weight since the last time he saw her, just a week ago.

“Ah, my sweet, sweet boy. Jisung!” she yells out helplessly, smiling big. She has recognized him, the way she always does. Nurses say she can’t always remember if she had any children or a husband which probably means she forgets about the accident for a while, too. But she always remembers Jisung and asks for him, patiently waiting for each Sunday to arrive.

Jisung untangles his arm from Minho’s hold and runs to Aera’s bed. He curls his small body against hers and she is quick to give him a weak hug, but hug nonetheless. “I have missed you so much, darling. I was waiting for Sunday to get here very quickly and for you to finally come to me. How is school? Are you passing all those exams? Are you eating well? Oh you look like you have lost some weight. I wish I could get up from here and cook you some food. I remember how much you loved to eat my spicy kimchee soup. Wasn’t it your favorite?”

Jisung just laughs overwhelmed by the sudden questions and unable to answer or even remember all of them. She still talks overly fast, time didn’t change that, Jisung thinks.

“I am doing okay, nana. Don’t you worry about me; you out of all people should know I am perfectly able to take care of myself. You should worry about yourself more.” He protested.

And she really should. If not for her own self, then for Jisung, Minho thought about it silently while still standing on the doorframe.

The younger boy looks down at the old woman, staring into her hands filled with bluish veins, exposed on the sunlight in the room. They aren’t smooth anymore; time is catching up with her. She still wears the small promise ring on her middle finger. Aera used to tell stories about how she met Jisung’s grandpa and the boy never believed that love like that exists anymore. Not at this time and age, not when people constantly judge you for the small things you do and for the way you live your own life. No one wants to listen to the other person or even try to fix the problems when they occur. Everyone just leaves when the small inconvenience happens. And Aera always says in order to be in a healthy relationship, you need to communicate with each other.

It didn’t help that Aera’s husband died long before Jisung was born. He wishes his grandfather was alive so he could ask him what love feels like.

“Ah, you naughty boy. I am taking care of myself, but time isn’t in my favor. One day we will have to say our goodbyes and I don’t think that day is far away from now,”

But Jisung shakes his head, disgusted just with the thought of it. He wishes his grandmother can live forever, or at least as long as he does. It is selfish, he knows she should rest and find peace, but Aera is all he has left. There are no other relatives, no other family members he could count on. Aera is the last member of the Han and Mae family. Well, alongside Jisung.

“Grandma…”

“Okay, okay.” She acknowledges, not wanting to hurt the child any further.

Her eyes trail at the door spotting the boy standing there as if he is in his own world, lost and completely alone.

“You brought someone with you this time,” Aera quietly notices, a naughty smile appearing on her face that almost completely shuts her small eyes. “Minho, dear, it is nice to see you after all this time,”

Minho flinches at his name, losing his composure and he bows a few times, confused, before he reaches to her bed.

“Ma’am…” he starts, but she hits him with a mean look that says ‘speak normally’ and so he does, “I mean nana.”

“Oh my, you’ve gotten quite handsome! It has been a few years since I saw you, right? Have you been treating my grandson well?”

She says politely as if she doesn’t know, but Minho can’t help but notice the mischief behind her eyes and the hint of a smile on her pale lips. She has been and always will be one of the women men would sell their soul to have. Even at her dying days, nothing about her (except physically) changed.

“I…” he stutters, words seeming so hard now, stuck in his throat. He didn’t think she would ask those questions. Minho knows he wanted to come here to apologize, to let her know what he couldn’t tell Jisung. Aera never hides anything from her family, but Minho knows if he made her swear to never say it to anyone, she wouldn’t. After all, breaking a promise is a crime, isn’t it? And Aera is a woman of her word.

“You look indecisive. Should you answer my question or not? I see you look like you have something to tell me. Do you?”

That damn old lady, she always knows.

But it’s Jisung this time that looks at Minho, straight up eating him up and not in a sexual way. “Minho?” he says angrily.

“I… I do. Can I speak to you alone?” the woman squirts her tired eyes, wondering what sorts of misfortune is that conversation carrying. “Please?”

“Of course, dear. Jisung, please wait outside for a bit. I would really like to talk to him in private.” She smiles at the boy, patting his perfectly soft hair.

“But nana!” he protests.

She glares at the door and makes a hand motion to shoo him outside. The boy nuzzles his face in her arm, eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn’t say anything else.

As he is leaving the room, he noticed Minho looks regretful and sad. And he doesn’t know if that has anything to do with what he is about to talk about with nana or if he has always been this way. It seems like Minho had been sad for a very long time, shoulders dull, smile fading, and eyes shining with tears.

Maybe it’s because of the moment, but Jisung suddenly feels gaping pain in his chest, thinking if moments like these weren’t so sorrowful, he would actually go and hug the boy until he squeezes the sadness out of him.

_______________________________

The conversation didn’t even last that long. But after they called him in again, nana seemed serious and Minho was still Minho. But Jisung knows him all too well, something has changed because his arm on Jisung’s shoulder seems heavy all of a sudden, like he knows it shouldn’t be there, but he is too prideful to remove it.

“Visit me next week! I am expecting you, sweetie. And oh, tell Jeongin and those two lovely boys who pretend they aren’t in love to visit me with you. I haven’t seen them in ages.” She giggles; old age suddenly leaving her body and Jisung sees just an ordinary teenage girl ready to gossip.

“Felix and Seungmin? But they aren’t-“

She shakes her hand. “Oh baby, I know it when I see it. It’s in the way they bicker. I love that love language so much. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. People tend to pretend they aren’t in love. You shouldn’t do that. Life is too short for you to worry who you should and shouldn’t love. Let it come naturally.” Aera shivers on the bed, but the warm smile is still present on her lips.

Jisung feels called out. “Why are you telling _me_ this? Tell them when they come.” It’s not like Jisung didn’t notice the way Seungmin always has something to say to Felix and how Felix waits for a chance to mock the boy or to say something to bring his previous words down. It’s amusing in a way, they bicker like small children.

But nana is looking at him and he feels the words travelling right through his body, escaping the brain and immediately resting in his heart. Does she know?

And he could swear she does. Maybe in the way she smiles at Minho. Maybe in the way she is holding the promise ring and twisting it in her hand or maybe just how she looks at her grandson, as if the truth has been there laying on the table all along. He doesn’t know if he had ever tried to hide that he loves the boy in this room, but he hasn’t openly showed that he does either.

“ _And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them and you realize the person who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be. And you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy._ ” She whispers, lips curling around the words like religion. But still, she continues, “ _And the boy who loves you the wrong way is filthy. And the boy who loves you in the wrong way keeps weakening. You thought if you handed over your body he’d do something interesting._ ”

But the boys stare at the old woman like she is completely insane. Minho feels as if she is referring to something and Jisung just _knows_ it’s about them, about his and Minho’s relationship. How could she describe it so perfectly?

The woman proudly claps. “Richard Siken. A primer for the small weird loves. It’s a great poem and you should definitely read it. Both of you.” The woman commands; the shadow lurking behind her eyes, mischief from earlier swallowing her face.

“Rest, dear boys, let me rest now. Don’t forget about what I said, Jisung. No love is right. No love is pure. Some are scared to fall for the wrong person, but if that person makes them happy right now, who cares if it’s going to hurt in the future? Every love is wrong when feelings fade away and misery makes its nest inside of the heart. No amount of love can survive without a little bit of ugliness.” And with that, she turns around and comfortably places her body on the clean sheets. She finds the position she likes and closes her eyes.

The boys stand, both in shock and confusion. Seriously, what has just happened?

Jisung comes closer and once he is sure she is asleep and still breathing, he pulls the blinds on the windows and puts a warm blanket over her body.

Then he pulls the older boy outside and somewhere in the hallways he could hear the laughing followed with loud scolding. Probably some of the nurses arguing with a patient since the visiting hours must be ending.

“What was that? She literally scared the shit out of me.” Minho starts first.

“I don’t fucking know, I didn’t even know she liked poems. Where did that come from? And the way she fell asleep in like three seconds? I was so scared she died,” Jisung breathlessly confesses, worry evident on his young face.

Minho smiles knowing well that she won’t go without a fight. Death will have to struggle a bit if it wants to capture the great Mae Aera.

“Anyway, where are we going on?” Minho squeaks.

“We? I’m not following,” he insists, still holding a huge grudge, still mad. “I’m going home and then I’m doing my homework, I have early classes tomorrow.”

“Fine, I’m coming with you.” the boy decides as if he has any right to speak on this.

“Don’t you like… have your own dorm? Why would you go to mine?”

“Because I like cuddles and I like the cats. I live in my dorm with Hyunjin who doesn’t even like skin ship and he annoys me so… you are my best choice for now.” Minho defends himself, but they both know he is lying. Hyunjin may not like skin ship as much as Felix does, but he would definitely give Minho any sort of comfort, be it physical or not, only if he just dared to ask.

“What about Chan and Changbin? They both _love_ hugs, don’t they?”

Minho struggles to answer. “They don’t live with me though,”

The boy rolls his eyes. Minho is a handful and he has always been. But this time, seeing that arguing about this won’t get them anywhere, Jisung gives in. And besides, it is particularly tiring and energy draining to do this. Minho is stubborn, even more than Jisung had imagined.

So the days go by and Minho doesn’t step down at all. Quite the opposite actually; he sticks with the younger boy every second of every day, too afraid to leave him for a moment. Jisung is confused about it but then again it’s Minho after all, that man has always been unpredictable. He doesn’t think much of it considering the fact that it is Minho this time following Jisung instead of the other way around. Whenever Jisung has classes, Minho is there to wait for him between each one. If Jisung is hungry, Minho just knows and it takes only a few minutes for the boy to come carrying a huge bag of food. Even the parties, Minho doesn’t even go anymore, even though the younger boy expected him to. They are basically his parties, which are being held in his frat house, but no. He stays with Jisung. Even when the boy goes out with his friends in a club or just somewhere to ease his mind, Minho happens to be there. He visits Jisung’s grandmother alongside with him, and even though it has been a few mentions of the love they feel towards each other, the subject of the poem or the whole situation was never brought up again.

But Jisung doesn’t believe it. No matter how hard Aera is trying to convince him, there is no way Minho is actually in love with him. It’s a privilege to love someone who loves you back and due to his previous experiences, he knows he isn’t that lucky. But Aera doesn’t think the same.

It seems Jeongin thinks the same as the old woman.

“It is quite lovely, I would say. To love and to be loved,” he speaks while looking at the woman poorly slimed down on the bed. Flowers are decorating her nightstand and the odor of the fresh chamomile tea is spreading through the clean hospital room. After they told her drinking caffeine isn’t healthy or helpful to her organism anymore, she switched to the good old tea without any complaints.

Aera pushes her body up so she could position herself to sit. She reaches for the big cup and the foggy air is bursting out of the freshly boiled tea. Jeongin helps her before he makes sure she is comfortable. “I have said it a thousand times, dear. But my grandson here,” she accusingly points at Jisung who is currently cracking his fingers,” he just doesn’t listen. That boy loves him more than he can even imagine.”

“Even if he does, he hasn’t showed it once. He can’t just ignore me completely for years and then totally switch up when I confront him about it. I think he is just afraid of being alone.”

“What makes you think that?” the youngest boy turns around, attention completely falling on Jisung.

“I heard from Hyunjin that he hasn’t been in Gimpo to visit his parents since the day he left for college. He is a junior now, which means he hasn’t seen them in three years.”

Both the boy and the old woman are staring at his eyes. The boy is curious, but the woman knows.

“He has his other friends, doesn’t he? And as pretty as he is, finding someone to comfort him wouldn’t be too hard. Yet, he is clinging onto you, isn’t he? That should mean something even if you don’t see it.” The woman says, but her eyes trail off every now and then. However, Jisung doesn’t notice that his own grandmother is pushing, not because she thinks Minho is innocent, but because she knows more than she could say.

Jeongin hesitates for a moment, but then he nods, confirming Aera’s words. It’s not the brightest idea to forgive Minho and knowing the pain Jisung suffered from the man, it is hard anyways. But forgiveness isn’t going to happen for Minho, Jeongin thinks it would be better if Jisung forgave because of his own self. It would probably bring him more relief and less sorrow.

“No. He comes to me once he thinks there are no other choices left. Not because he cherishes me more, but because I had known him for the longest. He can’t just open up to everyone he meets and he is aware of it.” Jisung scolds them, voice rising for an octave. “But nana, I am so tired of being the last choice. I can’t do it anymore. And just as I thought of leaving, he completely turns me upside down. He hasn’t left me for a single moment since that day I spilled the truth in his face. As the matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he is outside right now, waiting to take me home.” He chuckles and so does Jeongin.

Aera gives them the warm, but teasing smile. Even though Jisung is joking, he can’t be sure anymore since Minho hasn’t left his side in weeks.

“Forgiving someone who isn’t even sorry is a great form of freedom, Sungie. Not to Minho, but to yourself. Forgive him and the peace will flood over you like a fresh cold river. It doesn’t mean you should forget. If you want my honest opinion, you should always remember what he did to you in order not to settle for things like that anymore. But forgive him; he doesn’t know what he is doing.” Jeongin whispers and Jisung finally agrees with him.

Maybe forgiving Minho isn’t even about loving him. It’s about Jisung loving his own self and even though he has a lot of things to work on and even though he is terribly lacking in so many aspects of his life, he is enough and he is lovable. Aera spent the last twenty years of her life making sure that Jisung never forgets that.

“You know, Innie, you seem entirely grown right now. Wow, such wise words,” the boy titters, slapping Jeongin’s knee playfully.

They all laugh and Jeongin pretends he is offended. “Jisungie, I am just half a year younger than you, you know? It’s not like I’m that kid you always portray me to be.” And he truly isn’t. He has grown up so much and Jisung wonders when he will experience his own love problems.

He recalls the time the younger boy spends with Hyunjin lately and he thinks that the problems may have already started. He just wishes his best friend won’t suffer from unrequited love in the same way Jisung did. Especially since Hyunjin is playful, naughty. It is way too easy to fall in love with him. But falling doesn’t hurt that much. Getting up does.

Jisung ponders while looking at Jeongin having a mindless chatter with Aera. His glossy eyes are holding such innocence and joy; he seems so carefree and wiling to thrive as he is growing. Hopefully, those sparks won’t fade away with time. But the world is too cruel and Jeongin is too fragile. It doesn’t matter; Jisung will always stand beside him.

“Are we going now?” Seungmin pushes his head into the small spot between the door and the wall. “It was nice seeing you today, Mrs. Mae. You look as lovely as ever.” He continued, bowing to the woman.

“Ah, you boys! I told you to buy me some cigarettes and you spent an hour outside did you go to Busan for them? And don’t try to defend yourself with sweet compliments!” She yells while throwing the pillow at the door and in that exact moment she hits Felix who is just coming into the room.

Aera giggles, satisfied. But Felix gives her a look of utter confusion. Seungmin almost falls on the floor from the laughter.

“Mrs. Mae, we bought you cigarettes, but the nurse saw us and she said you aren’t allowed to smoke! You lied to us,”

“Ah boy, I never lie. I just choose to not tell the truth.” She winks at the boys, trouble evident in her small eyes.

“Nana, stop teasing them.” Jeongin laughs out loud, stealing the pillow from Felix who just chooses to hug him instead.

“Hey!” Seungmin starts. “How is Jeongin allowed to call you nana and we aren’t?” he says offended, considering the fact that he never got that privilege.

“When you boys finally admit you have been fancying each other, Seungmin and Felix will get that privilege as well. Until then, I am Mrs. Mae for you.” she says.

The boys start yelling and swearing they don’t like each other and that they deserve those privileges more than Jeongin. Felix says he is too young and Seungmin calls him a four year old.

Jisung and Jeongin laugh, before they step in to stop them from making havoc in the hospital.

“We will see you in a week, nana. Rest now. I love you!”

“I love you, too, my sweet Han.” Aera waves and the boys finally leave her to sleep. She had thought of falling asleep right in front of them, but Jisung would be too worried. She knows that he wouldn’t leave then. But it’s normal for an old woman to get tired very often and with ease.

Isn’t it?

_________________________

Jisung steps inside of the apartment. Saying goodbyes to his friends gave him a peace of comfort, he needed those hugs. Plus, it’s amazing Aera was thrilled today and it seems like she thinks of death less and less. He will definitely bring the boys next week as well. Well that is if Minho doesn’t decide to come with him.

Speaking of Minho, Jisung notices he hasn’t been anywhere in sight the whole day.

He opens the front door, cats purr loudly and he is suddenly with such strength pulled in and slammed against the closed door.

He has zero time to recall and understand what is going on before a pair of hot lips falls onto his, trapping every inch of his mouth, holding the breaths inside of his lungs.

Jisung can sense the smell of the freshly washed hair and the droplets are falling onto his shoulders tickling him. The closure of someone’s body is crippling him, making him want to cry until the he releases the last breath.

And before he feels the cotton candy like smell inside of his mouth, he knows who it is. He has kissed these lips countless of times and they had always hurt him to the point of no return.

Jisung calms in Minho’s arms and he parts his mouth.

_The hell with it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took a while lol, idk how satisfied i am with this story but oh well, i am going to finish it anyways.  
> this is where the fluff begins, but don't be too thrilled, sadness and angst is coming very soon. secrets can't be hidden forever and even minho knows this.
> 
> anygays, i am speaking too much lmao. just enjoy and tell me your opinions in the comments.love ya <3
> 
> edit: i will be taking some time to figure out how i want my story to go further, i lost motivation and inspiration to be honest. it is a bit hard for me. i also barely had any time due to all these rumours and bullying accusations regarding hyunjin. also kingdom and voting, it was hectic lately. i feel very sad about the hyunjin situation and i hope he takes this hiatus to better his mental state and that it will bring him happiness. we all love him so much. 
> 
> expect a new chapter very soon, i just need a few days to figure my story out, since i changed a lot of things. but i won't give up on it, i promise! stay healthy, stay positive, stay hydrated and stay ... stay !! :))


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